


Cicada's Chorus

by Karasu888



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Love Bites, M/M, Married Life, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, needy sex, smut challenge prompt, you're not going out in that outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 18:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karasu888/pseuds/Karasu888
Summary: **If you enjoy my writing and storytelling, follow me on twitter for updates on my original novel @aravenwriting and visit my author website for more information: aravenwriting.com **This was a prompt from anon on Tumblr for the Smut Challenge - "You're not going out in that outfit."  Kestrel just wants to get gardening done in some junky clothes, but Dorian is mortified by his appearance.  One must appear fashionable even if they're only weeding.  He refuses to let Kestrel leave their room without taking off the horribly offensive outfit.  Sex ensues. ;)This takes place after my main fic, "Time Past," so there are some minor spoilers to its ending here.If you prefer to read in order, please see below:1. Retreat from Haven2. Captured3. It’s a Kind of Magic (partially posted)4. Demon Dreams5. Keep Moving Forward6. Time Past7. Cicada's Chorus





	Cicada's Chorus

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the anon who messaged me this prompt on Tumblr! I'm always open to them, even though I may be slow to fill them. Once I figured out what the prompt was, I couldn't help but come up with this short, smutty story. I hope anon sees this and enjoys <3
> 
> The image is not connected to this story, but I wanted to share! It's a commission from the lovely @singuminklarity on Tumblr. <3

The cicadas sung their welcome to the sun at its apex, their drone constant. Unfortunately, the need for a breeze in their bedroom, however subtle, won out over the need to dampen the racket, so the windows remained open.

Sunlight brightened the room, casting large rectangles of light along the warm, wooden floor. Their overly large bed sat against the wall in the middle, the light stretching to touch just the legs of the frame. Dorian favored his late nights and had designed the windows to keep sunlight away from where he slept.

“Won’t those blasted critters ever shut up?” groaned Dorian with a muffled voice, head stuffed under his pillow.

Kestrel shifted to his side to look at him, admiring the exposed dip of his back. He’d already lounged away half the day in bed, wishing to stay by Dorian’s side as long as possible, but there were chores to be done and Tevinter summer day was only going to get hotter.

He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Dorian’s bare shoulder. “I’ll be in the garden, _ ma vhenan _,” he whispered. He knew better than to ask if Dorian wanted the windows closed, despite his compliant. The Tevinter might despise the cold, but sweating from the heat came in as a close second.

Dorian grunted a response, staying buried beneath his pillow.

That was his husband, always a grouch in the morning, even if the morning fell after high noon.

Kestrel climbed out of bed, shedding his large tunic onto his side of the mattress to pad quietly over to his wardrobe. Dorian insisted they each have their own, and Kestrel wasn’t going to argue that point. The man had more clothes than he knew what to do with. In fact, some of Dorian clothes kept miraculously appearing in Kestrel’s wardrobe, no matter how many times he moved them out. He’d given up that battle not even a month after their marriage.

He smiled fondly at the memory, eyeing the array of black, gold, and blue fabrics to the right of his more modest earth-toned clothes. He wouldn’t change anything, even if it gained him some of his wardrobe space back.

Reaching for his prosthetic first, Kestrel attached it to what remained of his left arm and slid on the corresponding wide cuff to the base of his ear. Tapping it three times, the arm flared to life, dimming to a soft glow beneath the Mistral dragon scales that covered its surface. He wiggled his fingers, attuning it to what his mind projected and moved on with his routine like he hadn’t just attached a magical, heavily enchanted, mechanical arm to his body like it was nothing. Guess months of getting used to it had dulled him to the novelty.

He threaded his fingers through his grown hair and pulled it back into a short ponytail, securing it with a tie from the shelf in his wardrobe. His hair had grown long and he let it, enjoying the feel of Dorian’s fingers through it during their more intimate moments. He quietly cleared his throat, pushing that thought aside. He’d never get outside if he continued down that path of memories.

Knowing what he was looking for, Kestrel retrieved a clean but well-worn pair of brown leggings and a green, faded, sweat-stained shirt. Although washed hundreds of times, there was no removing the rings around the collar and the armpits. Perfect for working outside. He didn’t need to look fashionable in his own garden, despite what a certain husband of his might argue.

Now, he just needed to slip past Dorian and—

A voice full of judgement stopped him. “You’re not going out in that outfit.”

Shit. So much for that.

Dorian frowned at him from beneath his pillow, face barely visible under its edge and hidden in shadow despite the bright surroundings.

“Come on, Dorian. It’s just garden work. No one will see me,” Kestrel protested.

Pushing his pillow aside, Dorian sat up in bed. His hair and mustache were in a perfect disarray with the night’s scruff dark along his jaw.

He looked gorgeous.

“Take it off,” Dorian said, voice firm.

Kestrel crossed his arms over his chest, playful defiance welling up within him. “Make me,” he challenged.

Dorian crawled slowly across Kestrel’s side of the bed with a big smirk. 

His muscles shifted along his bare back and down his arms, leaving Kestrel’s throat suddenly parched.

“If you insist,” Dorian answered right before he pounced. Launching off the bed, he slung his arms around Kestrel’s waist right as he turned to run, snagging him.

Kestrel struggled to suppress a laugh as he weakly fought against Dorian’s hold.

Pulling him back towards the bed, Dorian used those fine muscles to pick Kestrel up by his hips and toss him onto the mattress. His hands settled on either side of Kestrel’s flushed face before he promised, “I’ll make you beg to take off your clothes.”

Kestrel brazenly lifted his chin, eyes narrowed. “We’ll see.” They both knew he’d likely lose in the end. He usually lost their playful battle of the wills in bed, but the fight was half the fun.

Dorian’s smirk only grew as he held Kestrel’s turquoise gaze and snuck a hand up his baggy shirt, bunching the cloth around his upper chest. His thumb ghosted over Kestrel’s right nipple, gray eyes intense through smudged charcoal-lined lids. Lining up his fingers over Kestrel’s heart, he ran his hand down Kestrel’s torso, manicured nails digging in and leaving four angry, red trails in their wake.

Kestrel cried out and shut his eyes, body arching into Dorian’s hand with the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Unforgiving, Dorian kept his path southward, over Kestrel’s leggings and roughly rubbed his half-hardened cock through the thin fabric.

Opening his eyes, Kestrel found Dorian still watching him, his features softened and lips parted. He knew what Dorian was about to say and beat him to it. “You’re beautiful.”

Dorian blinked with surprise and laughed.

Kestrel had killed to hear that unfettered sound again and had no regrets. There was a pool of blood at his feet, yet every drop of it was worth it to hear that happy laughter. Kestrel reached up, tangling his fingers in Dorian’s hair as he cupped the back of his head, and pulled him in for a kiss.

The playful mood disappeared, replaced by a drowning need for Dorian. Punishing in its passion, Kestrel held nothing back, emptying his soul into their connection. 

One tongue met the other, who initiated lost as they melded together, aggressive and probing.

Using his hold, Kestrel bowed his back off the bed to press against Dorian’s bare chest hanging above him, balancing on the elbow of his prosthetic arm.

Dorian groaned into their kiss, hand pawing at Kestrel’s stiffened cock while his knee forced its way between Kestrel’s hanging off the bed.

Kestrel’s legs spread readily.

Dorian was the first to break their kiss, breathing against Kestrel’s lips, “Scoot back.”

Moving as instructed, Kestrel released Dorian and wiggled his way deeper on to the bed, making room for Dorian to climb after him, slotting himself between Kestrel’s spread thighs.

Kestrel threw his head back against the bedspread when Dorian’s hard cock slid against his. The fabric of both their pants frustrating, keeping skin from meeting skin. He bucked his hips against Dorian’s, yearning for more.

“Ready to beg for the clothes to come off?” Dorian teased as he sat back and lifted Kestrel’s legs to expose his ass.

Resting his feet on Dorian’s shoulders, he bit his lip and shook his head, betting his voice would betray him if he tried to answer verbally.

“No…?” Dorian asked, palming Kestrel’s cock. Then his hand slid lower, cupping his balls, thumb rubbing agonizingly slow circles.

Kestrel kept all noises restrained, cheeks flushed with the effort. It was only when Dorian’s thumb delved deeper, gliding between Kestrel’s ass cheeks, and pressed against his hole, that Kestrel gasped.

Dorian’s thumb prodded Kestrel’s entrance and he squirmed, hips rocking against Dorian’s hand. “This is about as far as I can go if you insist on wearing that dreadful outfit, _ amatus _.”

“You have to take off your pants too, you know,” Kestrel muttered like a petulant child, unwilling to give in just yet.

Dorian smirked and untied the drawstring of his pants before he inched them down, hard, purple-headed cock popping into view as it caught on the hem and bounced free. He kicked them the rest of the way off and leaned back, lazily stroking himself.

Kestrel’s eyes followed his hand, up and down, up and down along his length. He wanted Dorian to fill him, to stuff him full. He wanted to hold him close while Dorian fucked him into the bed, whispering soft nothings into his sensitive ear. Then he wanted Dorian to cum deep in him, claiming him. The wedding bands forever bound them, but the sex was what solidified that bond and reassured Kestrel it was real.

“Fuck me, Dorian,” Kestrel pleaded, voice soft and needy.

Dorian’s breath hitched at his request. 

Kestrel watched his chest stutter and his hand halt.

“I...I can’t do that with your clothes on. You know what you need to do,” Dorian said, trying to damndest to pretend he didn’t want to tear Kestrel’s clothes off himself.

He might have just found a way to win this battle of wills. “_ Ma vhenan _,” groaned Kestrel, running his hand suggestively over his stomach. “Fuck me.”

“_ Festis bei umo canavarum _. You’ll be the death of me, dear husband,” murmured Dorian, gaze fixated on the path of Kestrel’s hand. 

Kestrel tensed his abs under his touch, offering Dorian a show. His fingers brushed over the clawed lines, traveling up and under his shirt to toy with his nipple. “Dorian…” he breathed.

Unable to see Kestrel’s hand anymore, Dorian was freed of the hypnotic movement, yet he looked disappointed. Kestrel still being clothed was bothering him just as much. Finally, he looked back at Kestrel and grumped, “Fine! You win.”

Kestrel laughed with delight. “Ha! I knew I could best you!” With the admission of his victory, he sat up enough to yank his shirt off over his head, glad to be rid of the fabric.

Dorian rolled his eyes, but a smirk rose to his lips. “Don’t think it’ll happen again anytime soon,” he said, yanking Kestrel’s pants down even as he spoke, pausing so Kestrel could lift his hips up enough to pull them over his ass. Once clear, the leggings flew over Dorian’s shoulder, landing on the floor. “Much better.” His hands wasted no time grabbing Kestrel’s waist and running up his sides before angling inward, fingers spread wide to touch as much of Kestrel’s bare skin as possible.

Laughter faded into a quiet moan as Kestrel basked in Dorian’s caress of his bare skin.

One hand continued to tease Kestrel’s nipple while Dorian angled away, towards the bedside table. He retrieved a vial of lube they kept handy for these occasions and worked some fire magic into the fluid, warming it through the glass. Without pause, he ripped the stopper out with his teeth and dribbled some oil along Kestrel’s cock and then his own. He then slid his hand down Kestrel’s chest and grabbed his thigh, hefting his lower half up to expose his ass. Warmed oil flowed from Kestrel’s taint to in between his cheeks, before the vial was discarded to the same pile as Kestrel’s leggings.

Hands free, Dorian scooped up the oil that had trickled past Kestrel’s entrance and pressed one finger inward.

Kestrel’s eyes fluttered closed, surrendering himself to the sensation of being penetrated, only to have them snap back open when Dorian wrapped his other hand around Kestrel’s cock. He worked both in tandem, stroking Kestrel inside and out. 

“O-Oh…” Kestrel’s breath caught when a second finger joined the first and pressed against that exact spot that sent him trembling with pleasure. Still, it wasn’t enough. It never was until Dorian was fully sheathed within him. “More,” he groaned, hand searching for any part of Dorian he could reach. He had to settle for his knee, nails digging in as he pleaded again. “I need more.”

Sometimes their sex was slow and lazy, full of tender kisses, leisurely blow jobs, and teasing rimming. Other times, it was desperate, needy, and aggressive, birthed from the moments they were torn apart, never knowing if they’d see each other again.

When Dorian shoved Kestrel’s thighs against his chest to grant the right angle and pushed his cock halfway in, Kestrel matched his frenzy by grabbing his thighs and guiding him the rest of the way in. Their rash action burned, but Kestrel knew his body would adjust quickly enough to Dorian. He ran his hand down Dorian’s chest, caressing, hoping to curb the inevitable question. It wasn’t enough.

“Are you okay, Kes?” Dorian asked, head bowed and brow furrowed in concern.

“Stop asking if I’m okay, and fuck me,” Kestrel ordered, twisting Dorian’s nipple. He knew how to get Dorian moving again. Although, Dorian usually did the fucking, Kestrel knew he enjoyed being bossed around, giving up some of that control. And Kestrel learned to take control after years of uncertainty when it came to sex. 

Dorian groaned, loud and long, pupils blown wide with his desire. He lifted his hips slowly to pull almost all the way out of Kestrel before thrusting back in.

Every thrust dragged the head of Dorian’s cock over that sensitive spot within, making Kestrel’s neglected cock twitch. A pool of precum collected on Kestrel abdomen. Still Dorian insisted on going too slow, the sensation overwhelming and not enough at the same time. 

With his feet, Kestrel pushed against Dorian’s chest until he pulled out and sat back on his parted knees, watching and panting. His cock rose stiff and slick between his legs. Without wasting any time, Kestrel climbed on top of him, chest to chest, lowering himself onto Dorian’s waiting length.

Dorian grabbed Kestrel’s ass, helping to lift and guide down, fingers squeezing.

Kestrel latched back onto Dorian’s neck with his teeth, muffling a moan against the trapped flesh. His hands scrambled for something to hold on to as they started a punishing pace in tandem, his prosthetic hand burying into Dorian’s hair and his other grabbing onto Dorian’s shoulder blade, the muscles bunching with each plunge. His persistent scent of sandalwood beat out the growing aromas of sex and sweat, and Kestrel breathed it in.

“Fuck, Kes,” Dorian groaned, face pressed against Kestrel’s, stubble scraping along his contrastingly smooth skin.

“You’re mine and only mine,” Kestrel whispered against Dorian’s throat.

“Yes,” growled Dorian. He dropped his hips slowly to pull almost all the way out of Kestrel before thrusting back in, Kestrel falling to meet him with a resounding slap of flesh against flesh.

Their upper halves parted after that, revealing Dorian’s throat bearing a red, circular mark with deeper indentations and Kestrel’s four welted trails down his chest slick with sweat. Both braced themselves on an arm, torsos forming a “V” and allowing for deeper penetration.

The cicadas continued to sing their mating call into the summer heat, competing with the cries of pleasure coming from their bedroom through the open windows.

Kestrel grabbed his cock and pumped it between them, precum and oil slicking his hand’s path while keeping up the quick pace of his hips.

Dorian came first, suddenly, with a sharp moan and the stuttering of his hips, emptying deep inside Kestrel. Bridging the gap between them, his head fell on Kestrel’s shoulder, one hand remaining on the bed while his other lightly held Kestrel’s waist.

Dorian’s warmth filled Kestrel, but he continued to ride Dorian’s cock while he was still hard, chasing after his own climax.

Fingers breezed up Kestrel’s side, just on the cusp of being ticklish, while soft lips framed by a coarse mustache brushed over his shoulder. The contrast between the sharp smack of flesh with such gentle touches sent his body tumbling over the edge. Crying out in relief and triumph, Kestrel gripped his cock while it erupted between them, strings of opaque cum decorating Dorian’s chest. 

The next moments were filled with soft whimpers and pleased groans as they carefully pulled themselves part only to fall onto the bed’s soft surface in each other's arms. 

Dorian cradled Kestrel at his side, not wanting to give up their close proximity.

Kestrel nuzzled against sweaty shoulder, arm draped over his waist, not caring about the sticky mess beneath it. “You know,” he said softly, “since I won, I’m going to wear that outfit into the garden once I catch my breath.”

With a throaty laugh, Dorian repeated, “You’re not going out in that outfit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always welcome! <3


End file.
